Under the Weather
by BonJeanne
Summary: Based on the prompt "Blake comes into work with a really bad cold and Elizabeth takes care of him."


A/N: Hey y'all! I'm getting back into the swing of writing by finishing up some of the WIPs that have been sitting around for ages. This is another tribute to the Blake and Elizabeth dynamic, based on the prompt "Blake comes into work with a really bad cold and Elizabeth takes care of him." I love hearing what y'all think, so feel free to review!

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"Good morning, Madam Secretary," Blake said in an unexpectedly raspy voice. He cleared his throat. "You have back to back meetings until 12:30, and then we have the rest of the day to get a head start on the budget for next quarter."

"You okay?" Elizabeth asked. "You sound pretty congested."

"Yes, ma'am, I'm fine. Just a little under the weather," he replied.

"Okay…" she said, clearly unconvinced. "It sounds like we have a pretty easy day, so if you feel like you need to go home early, you can."

"I can assure you that that won't be necessary. Thank you, though."

Whatever maladie he had, however, seemed intent on proving him wrong. As the day wore on, Blake felt sicker by the minute. What had started as a minor headache had morphed into nauseating migraine. His head pulsed with heat but his body shivered. The words on his computer screen were beginning to blur together as he could barely keep his eyes open. He deduced from the above symptoms that he had come down with a nasty cold. Despite his declining health, he was determined to finish out the last few hours of the day.

Blake found his most upbeat playlist and turned the volume up in the hopes that it would give him some energy. Channeling his last ounces of strength into doing something productive, he turned to the ever-growing inbox. There was an email Senator John Greensborough from Kentucky requesting a sit down meeting with the Secretary on Wednesday at 7. Unfortunately for the senator, that would conflict with a McCord weekly date night that was on the books until the end of Elizabeth's time in office. Normally, Blake took care of all scheduling concerns himself with the occasional consultation of Jay, but this was a personal matter that Elizabeth herself needed to decide.

He stood up. Black spots danced across his vision, telling him that being vertical was a very bad idea, but he pushed on towards the Secretary's office. He open the door.

"Madam Secretary?"

"Yes?" Elizabeth said, barely glancing up from whatever classified document was on her desk. "Yes?" she repeated when he didn't say anything. She looked up.

"I just wanted to say…" Blake paused. What had he wanted to say? His jumbled state of mind was preventing him from recalling what he had come to do. "To say that… uh…"

"Blake?" Elizabeth sounded concerned. She walked around her desk. "Why don't you sit down for a second? You're looking a little pale."

"I think I'm okay... Just a little lightheaded." As the words came out of his mouth, the room started to spin. Blake felt his center of weight shift, but he wasn't quite fast enough to right it. He swayed to the right and would have fallen over if it weren't for the quick reflexes of his boss.

"Whoa, easy. Let's sit you down," Blake felt his boss wrap an arm around his waist and guide him to the couch where he collapsed like a limp noodle.

"Don't move," Elizabeth instructed. "I'll be right back." Blake sank lower into the couch and closed his eyes. It was the first time that day he had truly let himself feel how ill he was. He groaned. Wallowing in misery wasn't one of his favorite pastimes, but now that he started he couldn't stop.

"Okay, Blake," Elizabeth murmured interrupting his thoughts, gently resting her hand on his arm. "Let's get you home."

She wrapped a hand around his bicep, hauling him up to a standing position and then guided him down the hall. Blake's body protested every step of the way. The walk from his desk to the elevator had never felt so long. He heard Elizabeth talking faintly in the background. Though he couldn't understand her words, her voice was soothing and it helped him stay focused on the task at hand.

After what felt like a marathon, they arrived at the elevator and began to descend. The change in pressure caused Blake to blanche, nausea renewed. He swallowed forcefully and shut his eyes. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was throw up in front of his boss. Intense concentration seemed to, at least momentarily, halt the revolt in his stomach.

"You good to walk to the car?" Elizabeth asked. "It's just at the curb."

Blake nodded, embarrassed that he hadn't noticed that the elevator doors had been open for awhile. "Sorry about the wait."

"Don't apologize. I wouldn't want you puking in the State Department." She led him outside and helped him into the SUV. He tried in vain to stay awake for the duration of the car ride, but within minutes he had dozed off, his head rested against the window.

"We're here."

Blake cracked his eyes open and furrowed his brows when he saw a Georgetown house instead of his apartment building. "Ma'am, this isn't where I live."

"I want to keep an eye on you."

"That's really not necessary—"

"I haven't seen you this out of it. Ever!" Her eyes were wide with concern. Softly, she added, "I'm worried about you, Blake."

The honestly in her voice made him realize how awful he must have looked. As much as he didn't want to trouble her, the idea of someone making sure he was alright was comforting. He couldn't remember the last time someone had taken care of him when he was sick. Relenting, Blake followed Elizabeth into her house and allowed her to fuss over him. She led him to the couch and instructed him to stay put. She disappeared upstairs and returned shortly with medicine bottles in hand.

"The Tylenol is for the fever; the cough drops are for the sore throat. I've also brought some of Henry's clothes down for you if you want to change. They'll be more comfortable than your work clothes. Try to take a nap. I think you just need some rest," she said, placing the things down on the coffee table. He took the Tylenol without hesitation and sank back into the cushions, letting exhaustion overtake him.

Blake woke up and immediately regretted it. His headache had somehow gotten worse, possibly due to the light that was much too bright. He forced himself up into a sitting position, only to bend over and put his face in his hands. Something rustled behind him. A pet? A McCord? An intruder? Blake honestly didn't care, as long as whatever it was was going to put him out of his misery.

"Hey." It was Henry. Blake turned around and saw him standing over the stove, stirring something that smelled delicious, even to Blake's clogged sinuses. "I made you some McCord chicken noodle soup." Henry set down a bowl and spoon on the coffee table in front of him. "You should eat a little."

Truth be told, he had no appetite, but he picked up the spoon anyway. "Thanks."

"No problem. Let me know if you need anything else." Henry kicked back on an armchair with a book in hand. Blake dipped the spoon into the bowl and brought the steaming contents to his lips. Cautiously, lest it renew the nausea, he took a sip to find that it was delicious. The flavors of the vegetables, chicken, and middles blended into a perfect savory combination. It was so good that he finished every last drop. Blake stood up for take the bowl to the kitchen, but was struck with a wave of vertigo that had him gripping onto the couch for balance. Once it had, for them most part, stopped, Blake braved the walk to the kitchen and set the bowl in the sink before returning to the couch.

"Thanks for the soup," he said.

"No problem," Henry replied. "Let me know if you want some more."

"No thanks. I should be going home anyway. I think I'm back to normal," Blake lied.

Henry let out a short laugh. "Nice try. I saw you almost fall over getting up. Elizabeth would kill me if she found out that I let you leave."

"Speaking of, where'd she go?"

"Back to the office to finish up some stuff before the weekend, but she'll be back soon." Right on cue, the front door opened. Elizabeth walked into the living room and smiled at the two men.

"Hey, babe," Henry said as he pulled her into his lap. She sank into his arms with a grateful sigh, and they shared a quick kiss.

"How are you feeling, Blake?" Elizabeth asked, still perched on her husband's lap.

"Honestly, I still don't feel great."

"Do you want me to put on a movie?" She offered. "How's about _The Princess Bride_? That's a good sick day movie."

"Uh… sure?" Blake said. He didn't mean to sound reluctant; he was just surprised at the offer. She got the movie set up, and soon Blake's eyelids felt hot and heavy, suggesting that sleep would be very good for his health. Although the film was approaching his favorite part, he couldn't stop his head as it gravitated towards the pillow and his eyes as they fluttered shut.

Blake awoke the next morning to giggling coming from the kitchen. He sat up, pleased to find that his head had returned to almost normal. Following the smell of breakfast, Blake wandered into the kitchen where he stumbled upon an almost frightening scene.

Elizabeth stood at the stove with a spatula in hand, looking a little afraid of the pancakes cooking on the pan. Henry stood behind her, a hand on her waist and the other covering hers, guiding her movements so nothing caught on fire.

"That's it, babe," Henry encouraged and kissed the side of her neck.

"Don't distract me!" she hissed but there was a distinct blush on her cheeks.

"Hi!" Blake interrupted. He had been getting a little uncomfortable standing off to the side witnessing the intimacy of an early weekend morning.

Elizabeth's head snapped up. "Hi! How are you feeling? Any better?"

"So it's okay if _he_ distracts you," Henry muttered good maturely. She jerked her elbow back into his ribs.

"I'm much better, thank you," Blake replied. Setting the spatula down, pancakes forgotten, Elizabeth walked around the counter and placed her palm on his forehead.

"You're still a little warm, but definitely better than yesterday," she summarized. "You're welcome to stay another day, if you like."

He shook his head. "That's kind of you to offer, but I really am feeling a lot better. Besides, I wouldn't want to invade your lives anymore that I already have."

"Blake, you know you're like an honorary son to me, right? It's the least I could do," Elizabeth said. Blake bit his lip as he felt a sudden and overwhelming urge to cry.

"Hey, hey. What's wrong?" She asked.

"It's just that no one's really taken care of me since… high school, really."

"Oh, baby." Elizabeth's heart broke for him. She had had a similar reaction after the first time Henry had taken care of her while sick in college. She reached out to give him a hug.

"But I'm probably still contagious—" Blake started.

"Don't care." Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him. He was stiff at first, but then eased into her embrace. "Blake, I really mean it. I'm here for you, okay?"

"Thank you," he whispered back.

"Hate to interrupt," Henry said, "but the pancakes are burning."

"Shit!" Elizabeth broke away. Blake laughed good-naturedly as she attempted to rescue the blackened pancakes.

The following Monday, Blake was back at work.

Elizabeth stepped out of the elevator and smiled at the sight of him doing the elevator ambush. "Feeling better, I take it?"

"Yup! Back to normal." He beamed. "Here's a bear claw and your schedule for today. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Just take care of yourself. I'm not sure what I'd do without you," she said sincerely.

"Will do, ma'am. Thank you."

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That's it! Sorry about the ending. I couldn't find a great way to end it, so it's kind of abrupt and cheesy. Anyway, don't forget to let me know what you thought!


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